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"Oh, pray, Brer B'ar! Lemme off dis time, en I won't never do so no mo'. Oh, pray, Brer B'ar! do lemme off dis time, en I'll show you

de fattes' bee-tree in de woods.' “Ole Brer B’ar, he chomp his toofies en foam at de mouf. Brer Bull-frog he des up'n squall :

"Oh, pray, Brer B’ar! I won't never do so no mo'! Oh, pray, Brer B’ar! lemme off dis time !'

“ But ole Brer B’ar say he gwineter make way wid 'im, en den he sot en study, ole Brer B’ar did, how he gwineter squench Brer Bull-frog. He know he can't drown 'im, en he ain't got no fier fer ter bu'n 'im, en he git mighty pestered. Bimeby ole Brer Bull-frog, he sorter stop his cryin' en his boo-hooin', en he up’n say:

“Ef you gwineter kill me, Brer B’ar, kyar me ter dat big flat rock out dar on de aidge er de mill-pon', whar I kin see my fambly, en atter I see um, den you kin take you axe en sqush me.'

“Dis look so fa'r and squar' dat Brer B’ar he 'gree, en he take ole Brer Bull-frog by wunner his behime legs, en sling his axe on his shoulder, en off he put fer de big Alat rock. When he git dar he lay Brer Bull-frog down on de rock, en Brer Bull-frog make like he lookin' 'roun' fer his folks. Den Brer B’ar, he draw long breff en pick up his axe. Den he spit in his han's en draw back en come down on de rock -pow !”

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“ Did he kill the Frog, Uncle Remus?” asked the little boy, as the old man paused to scoop up a thimbleful of glowing embers in his pipe.

"'Deed en dat he didn't, honey. 'Twix' de time w’en Brer B’ar raise up wid his axe en w’en he come down wid it, ole Brer Bull-frog he lipt up en dove down in de mill-pon’ kerblink-kerblunk ! En w’en he riz way out in de pon' he riz a singin', en dish yer's de song w'at he sing :

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That's a mighty funny song," said the little boy.

Funny now, I speck,” said the old man, " but ’twern't funny in dem days, en 'twouldn't be funny now ef folks know'd much 'bout de Bull-frog langwidge ez dey useter. Dat's w'at."

XXV.

How MR. RABBIT LOST HIS FINE BUSHY TAIL.

NE time,” said Uncle Remus, sighing

heavily and settling himself back in his seat with an air of melancholy resignation -"one time Brer Rabbit wuz gwine 'long down de road shakin' his big bushy tail, en feelin' des ez scrumpshus ez a bee-martin wid a fresh bug.” Here the old man paused and glanced at the little boy, but it was evident that the youngster had become so accustomed to the marvellous developments of Uncle Remus's stories, that the extraordinary statement made no unusual impression upon him. Therefore the old man began again, and this time in a louder and more insinuating tone :

“One time ole man Rabbit, he wuz gwine ’long down de road shakin' his long, bushy tail, en feelin' mighty biggity.”

This was effective.

Great goodness, Uncle Remus !” exclaimed the little boy in open-eyed wonder, “everybody knows that rabbits haven't got long bushy tails."

The old man shifted his position in his chair and allowed his venerable head to drop forward until his whole appearance was suggestive of the deepest dejection; and this was intensified by a groan that seemed to be the result of great mental agony. Finally he spoke, but not as addressing himself to the little boy.

“I notices dat dem folks w'at makes a great ’miration 'bout w’at dey knows is des de folks w’ich you can't put no 'pennunce in w'en de 'cashun come up. Yer one un um now, en he done come en excuse me er 'lowin' dat rabbits

' is got long, bushy tails, w'ich goodness knows ef I'd a dremp' it, I'd a whirl in en ondremp’ it."

“Well, but Uncle Remus, you said rabbits had long, bushy tails,” replied the little boy. “Now

did.” “ Ef I ain't fergit it off'n my mine, I say dat ole Brer Rabbit wuz gwine down de big road

you know you

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